Scenes from my Surrogacies: A Memoir in the Making


My mother reveled in her role as hostess, so after gleefully meeting and greeting everyone and offering up drinks and appetizers, she returned to the kitchen to finish preparing dinner while my husband and I mingled with our guests.  I had met most of them before as we underwent our treatment cycle and embryo transfer, but the atmosphere at the fertility center lent itself to hushed tones and restrained interactions and children on the premises were highly discouraged.  In fact if someone did happen to show up with a child in tow, any baby bigger than what could be contained (and concealed with a blanket) in a portable car seat, they were immediately ushered into an enclosed, private waiting room down the hall so as not to upset the couples in treatment, still awaiting their own expensive miracles.